2016: The Bad and the Good

December 1, 2016

I've heard many people say it, and I've even said it myself, 2016 has been a terrible year. We've almost reached the end of it, and despite a few high points, it's mostly been bad.

The Bad: We've all seen what most feels like an exorbitant amount of celebrity deaths this year.  Maybe there were just more higher profile people dying this year.  For me personally, my family has experienced a lot of death. I lost two very dear people to me to cancer this year. My God sister, who was like a second mother to me, passed on in February. My Mother-in-law who I loved as much as my own mother, lost her life in May. I sang at both funerals. It was so incredibly difficult to have to use my skill/gift as a way to honor them both. Both of the deaths have affected me more than I can truly express. Watching my husband go through the grieving process was beyond heart wrenching. Losing a parent was something I experienced at 11 years old. And even though it's inevitable, watching him lose his mother was more devastating than I could have imagined and I never wanted him to experience that kind of pain. 

This year started out fairly bad. I was super sick New Years Eve. I had to cancel plans that I had to nurse myself back to health. New Years Day, my husband, Jeff, was called into work on emergency early in the morning and was stuck there all day till 3am trying to fix the problem.  Being alone sick in our apartment was difficult. Knowing that he was working on his last day off was sad.  I was still sick the day of our legal wedding anniversary. We were able to get out to go to dinner, but nothing else because I was so sick.  I did my only pinup photo shoot of the year that weekend.  Shooting while sick was a challenge, but I got through it.  I didn't expect it to be the last one for me, but it was. I've gained 20 pounds since January 1st due to stress, poor eating, illness and depression. In the past 3 days I've been beating myself up for letting my weight get out of control. I hate the way I look, and can't bring myself to do another pinup shoot because I feel so fat and ugly. I've been beating myself up all year about it. But these past few days it has been worse.

Things with my job also got worse the early part of the year. I was belittled, disrespected, and made to feel stupid for the first 3 months. They told us we were getting a bonus and I was excited to get the extra money.  But then I found out what my bonus was and how significantly lower it was than my male colleagues, now this good thing felt like a huge slap in the face.  I tried looking for another job, but nobody was interested in me for anything other than an assistant job.  With 17 years of IT experience in a lot of different facets of technology, I could only find a job as an assistant. My self-esteem was shot. I was waiting for the day when I was going to get fired. Strangely enough it didn't happen.

The Good: Things eventually turned around later in the year. I was forced to fill in for someone that was going on medical leave at a different campus. I was in process of trying to figure out if I had to go on leave myself to help with the care of my parents-in-law when I was pushed to the feature campus with very little training. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because the same people who were belittling me changed their tune when they saw for themselves that I wasn't an idiot and was solving issues that had been going on for years. Next thing you know they're saying I'm so amazing and that I was doing better than the person who held the role currently. 3 months later she returned from leave and I went back into my old role. Within 2 months of me going back to my old role, I was told that the person I filled in for resigned.  I was asked (actually forced) to accept the role at the feature campus permanently. Now my job role had changed, I was working a lot more, including weekends. When I tried to negotiate some terms with the job change, I was denied everything I asked for.  But even with that, things were better. then a few weeks ago we were hit with massive layoffs because we had been bought. Things were finally better and now there was a serious threat to whether I was going to lose my job.  They confirmed that my job was safe for now about a week or 2 ago, but it's still kind of a mess.

One of the highlights of 2016 is that my burlesque career was on the upswing. I was performing more, in new and different places. As a result I was meeting people in the community that were becoming really true friends. I was getting a lot of good advice, gaining new skills with each show that I performed in.  I got to meet people I've admired for as long as I had been doing burlesque. In April I received my first standing ovation. I was floored.  I didn't believe it. When people were coming up to me after the performance, I was in shock.  And then something weird happened. I decided to start submitting for festivals at the suggestion of someone who was winning a bunch of them. I kept getting rejected to them the first half of the year, which of course didn't help my self-esteem.  But of course my winning friend, kept insisting that I keep trying and that my time was coming. Even though I was still gun shy from not getting into Burlypicks last year, I submitted again. A lot of nail biting went on. And then I got my first acceptance. I was thrilled. But then immediately intimidated, because I didn't feel ready and then went into a blind panic.  My burly family assured me that I was ready. I received so much encouragement that it surprised me. I kept thinking "I'm a nobody. But these people that I respect were giving me encouragement to do this. How is this possible?" But it was happening.  So I kept working. What happened next shocked the hell out of me. I won Masters of Singing for the California Region for Burlypicks.  I was so in shock that Jeff had to post the news on Facebook to announce it. After I received my medal and the show was over, I came into the audience and saw my burly sister who spent the morning calming me down when I freaked out. She had tears in her eyes. All I could do was hug her and cry. I had done it.  I stepped outside of my comfort zone and got some validation in the process.

The last time I saw my mother-in-law alive was Mother's Day. She was in pretty bad shape.  All I wanted to do was make her smile or laugh.  I managed to do that a few times.  I showed her Jeff's creation of my Uhura costume.  She smiled and was truly proud of him. Which leads me to more of the good.  Jeff inherited his creativity and sewing skills from his mother. He didn't take a class, and this is not what he does for a living. But his passion to make me something awesome for my performances was another way for him to bond with his mother.  This year Jeff's creations have been fantastic.  Which has helped me raise the bar on my burlesque game. I now perform a non-singing act with the use of isis wings and LED's. Something I never thought I would do. But Jeff feels like my burlesque career is his too.  He wears the title of  "Lord Sapphire" very proudly.  He feels like he's in the burly community even though he's not a performer. He appreciates the love, support and advice he gets from our burly family.  And it makes me happy when someone asks him to make something for them. He's still exclusively my costume creator, but one day that could change.

I can honestly say that the majority of the good stuff that has happened to me this year has been burlesque related. There are days when it feels like it's saving my life. Especially when my mind goes to the dark places and depression takes over. When the voices in my head say "You suck. You're too fat. No one wants you in their show. No one wants to photograph you on stage. You have no talent. You're not good enough. "  Something will happen to counter the negativity.  I'll get a compliment. I'll have a good show. I'll get some encouragement from someone I don't know very well.  I'll get an invite to be in a show. Someone will tell me that I inspire them. I'll see a picture that doesn't look awful. I'll hear Jeff bragging about something I did. I'll be able to tell a story with an act that means something to me and people will get it and it will touch them...or I'll win a competition.

After Regionals, I thought that was the end. I had no intention of going on to the Finals in Pittsburgh. Then Jeff said, "We won, we're going to Pittsburgh" and I replied with "We can't do that. We can't afford that.  Can't I just stop here?"  And then I had a 3 hour conversation with my winning friend. She gave me the push I needed.  I kept thinking if someone like her believes I can do it, then maybe I can.  The next week we booked our flight and hotel. I spent the next month and a half performing and rehearsing. If I was going to go, I needed to make sure I gave a decent performance. As much as I wanted to win, I didn't expect to. I know that there are all kinds of factors that go into those decisions that are beyond my control. But what was in my control was to make sure I didn't go out there and choke and embarrass myself.  When we got there. I went into meltdown/freakout mode (again). And again, I was like "what the hell am I doing here, I'm not ready for this" While Jeff slept, I admitted that I was scared on the Internet. The outpouring of love really helped me get through it. Until I got to the venue, went through sound check, had a bad sound check, got intimidated by my fellow competitors. At this point, I'm just going to do what I can to tell the story. I was the last singer to compete. I told my story. The audience reacted. At that point I got what I came for.  This audience who didn't know me from Adam, laughed in all the right places and responded the way I expected.  I had my validation. I walked off that stage to the back of the bar where Jeff was almost in tears..."You've won this" I told him "No I haven't, but I got what I came for at this point it's all good" I changed clothes and grabbed a drink and waited for the rest of the performers to do their thing. Several people came up to me and told me how much they liked my number. And I was happy. One girl came up to me and said it moved her to tears. That made my night. I just wanted to reach someone, and I did.  When they came out to announce the winners, I was in complete shock when they said "From Los Angeles"  All I could say was "No" repeatedly.  And just like regionals I had problems getting to the stage because I was in complete shock. By the time they gave me my trophy I was in tears. I didn't expect to win. My winning friend was in the audience that night and said..."Didn't I tell you?".  Yeah she had. And then there was my husband, who was grinning ear to ear. After that everything was a blur.

Flash forward to this week. I'm getting ready for a show with a new act. I've had several bad days in a row. I've been in a funk for almost a week. I have barely spoken to my spouse. I'm mentally beating myself up over everything, but particularly the weight gain. I've been on the brink of tears for whatever reason.  The holidays are hard for me.  The anniversary of my dad's death was the day after Thanksgiving. We had another death in the family just before Thanksgiving. I had more family in town than I expected to as a result.  Several comments were made about my weight gain by my family, which I expected, but it still hurt.  The layoffs at work have really gotten to me, survivor's guilt I suppose. Self doubt has crept back into my brain, and all I want to do his retreat to my corner and not be near people. But I can't do that. I have to get out of this, and move on. I have to make the most of this last month of this awful year. So I decided to recap my year by writing this blog in hopes that getting out my feeling about the bad parts, and reminiscing about the good parts will help.  So there it is.  Here's hoping that December is decent and bracing myself for what is yet to come: bad or good.

I've Won A Burlesque Title...Now What?

October 3, 2016

It's been a long while since I wrote a blog. So much has happened in almost the year since I wrote my last one.  I guess writing this thing is cheaper than going to a therapist.  Which I probably need to see one soon.

The past few weeks I've been having weird anxiety.  Some really great stuff has happened in the last few months, but I'm somehow feeling completely uneasy about it. I guess it started with the Burlypicks regionals competition at the end of July.  The main reason I applied to Burlypicks this year is because I didn't get in last year.  Everything happens for a reason, even if I had gotten in, I would not have been able to compete because of the vocal cord damage I had due to acid reflux.  Now it was a year later and I was trying to get in. Not because I expected to win, but because I wanted to participate. I wanted to be on the same stage with all these performers I admire tremendously.  Well I got in.  That alone should have just made me happy. But now I had to make sure I proved that I belonged there.  That meant I had to give a good performance.  The pressure started build once I got in.

So I spent a month of getting ready, making sure everything was in competition ready condition. I didn't even know what the hell that meant. I was making preparations. The day before the competition, things changed very suddenly with my day job and added to my stress.  I was offered a position that wasn't a promotion, wasn't going to give me a raise, that was going to be a lot more work. And they wanted an answer the next day, meaning the day of the competition. I negotiated for more time, which meant I had the weekend to think about it. The day of the competition was a complete mess. I felt like a million emotions all at once and couldn't process any of them. I was sitting at my desk at work in tears from the anxiety. Jeff, my husband, tried to help via g-chat.  But I was losing it.  It was a mix of fear,  of not being ready, to wanting to win, to not wanting to win, to just wanting to be good enough, but not feeling good enough.  It was awful.  My friend and fellow burlesquer calmed me down via text.  I was able to get through the rest of the day without more tears, but the anxiety was still there.

The evening did not go as planned.  Although everyone was very nice backstage, the amount of people was starting to add to my panic.  Then I had to do sound check and there were a million people around. I had some issues during my sound check, and everyone was there to hear it.  It was beyond nerve wrecking.  I got through it some how. Long story short, I won the singing part of the competition.  Everyone else knew I was going to win...except for me.  I thought this would be the end.  But now Jeff was saying we were going to Pittsburgh for the final round.  I wasn't mentally prepared to do this. I didn't expect to win.  I didn't expect to make it this far. I just wanted to perform.  Now I have to prepare for a trip I couldn't afford, to go and lose in another state that I've never been to. There was no way I was ready for this.  But at this point I decided to compete, and now I'm dealing with this consequences. That's how I saw it.

It's a month and a half later, we've booked our flight to Pittsburgh, we made reservations for the hotel. I've reached out to the Burlypicks organizers and confirmed I'm coming to compete. The day before we left I really started to fall apart at the seams. My nerves were getting the best of me.  All my self-doubt was taking over and again the emotional rollercoaster was starting. I had to question why I was doing this.  Why didn't I leave well enough alone and just be satisfied with winning the regionals.  Now I was about to make an ass out of myself on the other side of the US without my friends being there. I wanted to win, but was trying to prep for losing.  This is my first competition, and no one knew who the hell I was.  I couldn't expect to win.  The only thing I could hope for was just a good memorable performance.  Well it was a good performance and I won.  I was both happy and freaked out about the whole thing.

So I came home with a trophy.  And everyone was happy for me. Now I have this award/title thing and I don't know what to do.  People were congratulating me and I thanked them. Then all of a sudden I had the strangest reaction to all this. I became completely weird about it.  I started feel almost embarrassed that I had won. I didn't know how to act.  Then the pressure to be excellent in every show I was in started to build.  I was struggling with the expectations of this.  Now everyone, including Jeff, is now talking about the next festivals or competitions I needed to submit for.  I wasn't ready to even think about it.  I was beginning to think that maybe I would stop here.  Just go out on top with the one competition. But everyone says I have to keep going.  I'm not sure I have the stomach or the stamina to do this.  The pressure to find the next "Cookie Monster" has started to set in.  Now I worry about the steps I'm taking, or which direction to go. I'm completely freaked out about all of it.

I felt like something was wrong with me yesterday. But I couldn't tell what it was.  Then today, this terrible feeling hit me so hard that I couldn't focus or make a decision.  I didn't sleep last night.  I tossed and turned.  And then I had some kind of panic attack that was so overwhelming. I couldn't breathe, my heart was racing, my mind was racing. I felt completely out of control. I was already late for work because I overslept, but now I can't bring myself to make a decision to move forward and get on with my day. I had to call in sick. I spent an hour and a half trying to calm myself down in my apartment all alone.  I finally went to sleep for a bit. But when I woke up I felt worse than I did before I went to sleep.  I've been uneasy all day. I haven't left my apartment, not even for food. I'm a mess and I'm not even sure why.

I thought writing this all down would make me feel better.  But now that it's down in front of me in black and white, I don't feel better. I feel pathetic.  People have much bigger problems and I'm having a nervous breakdown because of what? I was given an award for one act, and now I don't know what to do. That sounds stupid and pathetic. I feel like an idiot. An anxiety ridden idiot.

The Year that was 2015

It was almost a year ago to the day when I last wrote this blog.  Meaning it was the day before the anniversary of my father’s death. I’m not sure why I seem to pick the saddest time to choose to write this blog and reflect about what’s going on in my life.  I suppose depression has something to do with it.  

As Thanksgiving approaches, the holiday blues start to creep in.  Last year marked 30 years that my father passed away. And I thought that was particularly tough.  I had no idea that this year would be even more difficult. This year was a tough one in general, but this November things have been even harder to cope with.  Earlier in the month a friend of mine passed away. He wasn’t even 40 yet. He was taken away from this life so soon. Death in itself is already hard to deal with, but when such a beautiful spirit is taken so early in their life it awakens an additional set of emotions in those left behind. This is the second person this year in my circle of friends who passed way so very young. It’s really wreaking havoc on my emotions.

In addition to my friend’s untimely death, someone very close to me is suffering a life threatening illness. And although they are taking measures to fight this illness and they have an amazing attitude about it, it still rocks me to the core that they are going through this. I want to do something to make this who situation better, to fix it. But it’s not within my power to fix it. I feel helpless. All I can do is offer good thoughts and my constant prayers.  They’ve recently been such of source of strength and support that I never expected. It was nice to have someone say that they are on your side when you’re suffering. Offering encouraging words when they know you are hurting. Constantly reminding you that they think you’re smart and capable when you feel stupid and useless. It means the world to me when they like something on my Facebook, or comment on it.  They are giving me the constant reminder that they are there for me, no matter what. So now they’re going through their situation, all you can do is send them texts to check on them. Or send them a message that I’ll be there if they need me, even if I don’t know what to do. And remind them that I am praying for them...it doesn’t feel like enough. And as the anniversary of my father’s death approaches, this helpless and sad feeling seem to be magnified. I just want to fix it. I can’t. I want to do whatever I can to make them happy and encourage them the way they’ve encouraged me. But I feel like everything that I do falls short. 

A little while ago, someone else who I was very close to, who I considered a good and close friend said something to me that was so hurtful. And since they haven’t spoken to me since, I’m under the impression we are no longer friends. I had just returned from vacation and I had a particularly rough couple of days upon my return home. I checked in with this person because I hadn’t been able to contact them as soon as I got home, due to some electronic difficulties. An incident that happened while I was in the process of contacting them bled into my tone of my communication. They picked up on my somber tone. When they asked me what was up, I told them about the incident. Their reaction to my comment about the incident seemed less than friendly. And then they accused me of only contacting them to complain or to vent to. They prefaced that statement to say they considered me to be a dear friend. That hurt. For those who know me really well, they know it takes a lot for me to reach out when I’m upset. I’m not good at hiding my emotions at all. But admitting to the fact that I’m upset and actually spelling it out is difficult for me. I’ve spent the majority of my life listening to my friend’s problems and trying to be there for them. I’ve always felt like my issues or woes weren’t really all that important when someone else was hurting. So when this person basically accused me of being a crappy friend that only complains and vents, it hurt me. It was just another thing in a string of bad incidences that just made me feel awful.  After that I felt like nothing I could say could fix that so I didn’t bother reaching out again after that.  That person has never spoken to me again and it saddens me. Accusing me of being bad friend, or not caring about their feelings, is a big slap in the face to me.  I may not be great at a lot of things, but I thought being a friend was the one thing I was good at. 

It seems this year has really put me through the ringer. One thing after another seems to have gone wrong. Don’t get me wrong in the grand scheme of things, my issues aren’t as serious as things others are going through. But I have to say it’s been truly a struggle for me this year.  I’ve spent months watching things at my job deteriorate and break me down. I had spent a year dealing with a coworker who at first I thought was just difficult to get along with, but ultimately found out he was insane. So insane that when he was fired, I was really concerned that he was going to come back and kill me. I had to be escorted to my car because other people had the same concern for me. Once he was let go I thought things might improve, they didn’t. I watched my boss’s manager slowly chip away at my self-worth and morale, by taking away my technical duties and reducing me to a secretary. Instead of troubleshooting an email issue or a network connection problem, which I had done pretty successfully for over a year here, I was told to order dinner for moves or book a conference room for a meeting. And there was no explanation for that. For someone who has done technical and desktop support for 16 years, it was demoralizing and depressing. The only way to get through it was to just call this my day job and not my career and just keep working until I could find something else better. 

When I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I was diagnosed with a bleeding nodule on my vocal cord due to acid reflux. I was instructed by a doctor to immediately stop singing, go to speech therapy, go on a very restrictive diet and make a bunch of lifestyle changes which turned my life upside down. The one thing that I do, that made me happy, that made me feel like I was truly something, that I was good at, I was told I couldn’t do. Singing was my life and my emotional release. There was a strong possibility I might not ever be able to do it again.  I can never truly express how incredibly awful this was for me. I stopped leaving my house for anything except work, doctor’s appointment and errands. It was hard. I was broken. My husband was the one who got me through that. He dragged me out of the apartment. He did whatever he could to keep my spirits up.  He encouraged me to take burlesque class so I could figure out ways to perform while my voice was in recovery. In many ways he saved my life. Eventually I recovered enough to return to the stage and for that I’m truly grateful.

So when I thought I was getting things back on track with my life, I took another blow in the office.  I overheard a coworker say a bunch of things about me that was so awful. She trashed my body, she said I was too fat to do burlesque, she said that no one would ever want to see someone so fat on a stage. She said that I only dress in the retro clothes because I couldn’t fit into regular clothes because I was so big.  She said all this in the restroom and I happen to be in the stall when she said it, she didn’t know I was there.  To say that I was hurt and angry would have been an understatement. I didn’t confront her right then and there. I let her and the person she was chatting with leave and I stayed behind to collect myself. At some point I walked to my car and cried. I took a few hours to calm down and eventually I took action. I typed a letter, that I didn’t sign, explaining that I had heard everything she said. I mentioned that I thought it was interesting that that I was the topic of her discussion. And I was sorry that she was offended by my body type. I further explained that there was a large group of people that would disagree with her statement about my body and the burlesque stage. I finished up by cautioning her against making statements like that in such a public place, because you never know when someone could have a recording device and could take that information to HR. I left the typed note on her keyboard. She never looked me in the eye again. She never apologized. She was eventually fired for what I don’t know. It was the first time I handled something like that so calmly and gracefully. Hearing someone say something so awful about you is horrible, but at least I put her in a place without stooping to her level. It was one of worse and finest moments at the same time.  Clearly the quality of people I work with is seriously lacking. 

Despite all this awful stuff, there have been some shining moments for me. My pinup pictures have been published in a magazine twice.  One of those photographs was published in a book of pinups. I got to shoot with some amazing photographers this year. I’m Miss January in the Black Pinups calendar for 2016. Next year I will have my first cover published.  I did recover from my vocal injury. I was able to go back to singing and performing. My performances since then have been more polished and I have a new sense of confidence and joy that is now more evident in my performances. I’ve been exposed to a larger community of burlesque performers that have been super encouraging and inspiring. I already knew that I had amazing husband. But when he stepped up and started creating, embellishing and designing my costumes my love and respect for him magnified exponentially. Never in my life has someone do so many amazing things for me, just because they loved me and believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. His love is what gets me through some of the toughest times.  Having someone like that on your team makes a world of difference. The thing that was the most surprising was the positive thing that happened next. When I publicly reached out on the Internet to say how bad I was hurting, I was surprised by the amount of support I got from people that were in my life. You make Facebook friends and you consider them acquaintances, but you pretty much don’t expect them to be “real friends”.  But I was pleasantly surprised when people wrote me and said so many encouraging things, and the nicest things and made me feel like I mattered to them. I didn’t know how much I affected other people until all of this happened. I’m so grateful for that encouragement. I’m thankful for the love that was bestowed on me in my time of need. 

I end this blog on a positive note despite all the raw negativity and angst I’ve written. I wrote this blog for several reasons. One, I thought by writing out my feelings I would get some relief from the pain I’ve been experiencing. I did accomplish that. The second reason is I felt the need to explain why I’m not always smiling despite all the wonderful things going on around me.  I’m too honest for my own good, and I know that. But that’s the only way I know how to be.  The third reason is to encourage someone else who suffers from sadness and depression and to let them know they are not alone.  Finally to thank those who read this long drawn out diatribe for their encouragement and to let them know how much I appreciated it.  My final thought is to encourage you to continue to give love and support to those around you.  You never know how much you can inspire someone or even help them just by smiling at them and saying “I’m so glad I know you”. 

A Dedication To My Father

 

Today’s blog will be different.  And although I said last week I would keep the negativity to a minimum, this was something I needed to write. It’s part of the healing process. And right now my heart is very heavy and I need to get it out.

The holidays are a difficult time for a lot of people, myself included. I have a particularly hard time with Thanksgiving.  My father died just after Thanksgiving when I was 11 years old.  Tomorrow is the anniversary of his death. He passed away 30 years ago. And in some ways it feels like it was just yesterday.

Losing a loved one is never easy for anyone.  Losing a parent is particularly hard at any age. But when you’re 11 years old and you suddenly lose a person who meant the world to you, it changes you forever. In so many ways it has shaped me into the person I’ve become.  Losing someone close like this so early in life has made me stronger in a lot of ways.  And in some ways some of my biggest character flaws stem from this one moment in time.

This year, I thought I would be OK. I had been cruising along like normal going about my daily life.  I thought maybe I would get a little sad. I’d take a few minutes to reflect and just go on as usual.  But last night a minor disagreement was the thing that sent me over the edge. It hit me so hard that I started to cry.  And I couldn’t stop. I cried for four hours straight. The grief and the pain of losing my dad just overcame me like it had just happened. I can still hear my mom saying to me as I walked into our apartment,  “He didn’t make it”.  I remember thinking, “but he was fine the day before, how can he be gone just like that?”

I’ve done my best to think of all those great moments from those precious years that I had with my dad.  I was daddy’s little girl and the only child of my two parents.  Daddy was the one who spoiled me, and mom was the one who delivered the punishments when I misbehaved.  But it was very obvious to me, even then, that I was very loved by both of them.  And although my mom wasn’t as expressive about her love for me back then, my father expressed it every chance that he got. To this day I’m grateful for that love from both of them.  My mother was the one who had the strength to take over and be both parents.  My mom has always been very hard on me, but I know it’s out of love. I love and respect her ability to carry us both through after losing my father.

The admiration for my father is still something that stays with me.  I remember all the lengths he took to get me the best of anything and everything for me. When it came to my education he bought me every book he could get his hands on. My dad always stressed how important it was that I got a good education.  Even though we don’t have all the cool technology kids have now, he still managed to find the best learning tools out there for me.  My father was in military years before I was born. He fought in the Korean war. He was corporal in the army.  He spoke and read multiple languages: French, German, Italian and Russian. After he was gone we must have found dozens of books in all those languages. When he tucked me in at night, he always said I love you in a different language. When I was in elementary school I was in a bilingual classroom for 5 years.  I always thought it was funny that the one language I was learning, Spanish, was the one language he couldn’t speak.  He always placed the importance on speaking proper English. I wasn’t even allowed to say “ain’t” in the house.

He encouraged me to embrace every opportunity to learn. It was very important that I went to college.  He himself worked at the community college that I eventually went to. He used to drive me by the college that he said he hoped I would attend.  One of my proudest moments after he was gone was when I got accepted to Loyola Marymount University.  It was his dream that I was attend LMU. When I wrote my entrance essay I mentioned how my dad would drive me up and down Lincoln Blvd, pointing out the letters on the side of the mountain and saying “You could go there someday”. 

My father was the one who encouraged me to embrace music.  When I expressed minor interest in learning an instrument, particularly clarinet, he immediately went out and bought one and got me private lessons. He encouraged me to practice, even when I wanted to go out and play with my friends.  I eventually abandoned the clarinet after he died. I opted to sing instead. It turned out that I was a better singer than I was instrumentalist. My dad loved classical music. And he hated when I changed the radio station to Michael Jackson or Madonna when Bach or Mozart was playing in the car. His favorite song was Ave Maria. To this day, that song always brings me to tears when I hear it. I eventually embraced his love of classical music.  I wish I appreciated it more when he was alive.

My dad spoiled me.  After a certain age, I was getting a two birthday cakes at each party.  One homemade one and one store bought one with the all the cool characters. He would occasionally stop by my elementary school to surprise me McDonalds for me and my friends and of course would sit with us. Because he worked in athletics at the college he would take me to all the games.  Because of him, I got to see the Lakers practice in the college gym.  We’re talking back in the hey day of the Lakers: the Kareem and Magic Johnson days. Somewhere at my mom’s place I still have pictures of those players at practice.    I had every stuffed animal imaginable. I still have a stuffed rabbit he gave me when I was 2 years old, named Juicy. I had all games and toys.  Any extracurricular activity I wanted to participate in, he encouraged, and chaperoned.  And even though he gave me all that stuff, he also made sure I stayed humble and respectful.  He was constantly reminding me to say “please” and “thank you”. He encouraged me to share my toys with others.   He stressed that the importance of respecting elders and authority.  He reminded me that mouthing off and getting into trouble wouldn’t get me very far in life.

I’m so fortunate to have had those great memories that are still with me to this day. He meant the world to me and I know I was his world too. He never failed to tell me when I made him proud.  And as result I wanted to continue to make him proud. Those formative years with him is what gave me the work ethic that I have today. In my mind I’m still trying to make him proud even though he’s no longer here.  And when I make mistakes as most human do, I’m extra hard on myself because I feel like I’m disappointing him. I know it sounds irrational.  My dad is the one who taught me how to love. It still breaks my heart to this day that he never got to meet the one man who really ever matched that kind of expressive unconditional love, my husband Jeff. The two greatest men I have even known never got to meet.

Tomorrow morning I will go to his visit his grave. I don’t go very often. Sometimes it’s just too hard for me to go there.  I’m fortunate to live close to where he’s buried. My mother has opted not to go with me. I think it’s still too painful for her, even though she doesn’t say it. I will pay my respects.  I will tell him that I love him and I miss him everyday. I will thank him for giving me best childhood a girl could ask for. I will thank him for loving me. And I that hope he’s watching me and that I still make him proud. I will let him know that I’m in good hands with the man I’m married to.  And I promise to be there for my mom. 

I changed my profile picture on Facebook to honor him and remind myself of the love and happiness I had with my dad. It’s a picture of him holding me at 6 or 8 months old.  He’s looking at me smiling. It’s one of my favorite pictures.  I wrote this blog as kind of a love letter to say how much he meant to me and to help ease some of the grief I feel. 30 years is a long time. And at 41, I’m still daddy’s little girl. Which is why I still legally have his last name. I’m proud to be the only daughter of Joseph Henry Rogers, may he rest in peace.

What?! You’re Starting This Blog Thing…Again?!

Today’s Attire:   A navy off the shoulder cotton top (My Baby Jo $28) paired with a blue white and beige printed skirt (White House Black Market $35), Black calf length leather boots with studded hard ware (DSW $29) and denim jacket (Old Navy $15).

Outfit Justification: Today the division that I work for celebrated its one year anniversary. They were having a party. I wanted to be festive and by festive I wanted to wear something cute and comfortable. The skirt has pockets, so that fit the criteria.

What?! You’re Starting This Blog Thing…Again?!

Last week I was talking to one of the people in the office who I’ve recently had the opportunity to get to know a bit better.  She was telling me about how she was getting out of her comfort zone.  She had taken a one day comedy workshop and that prompted to her to sign up for a comedy writing class for late night television.  She has no comedy writing experience.  She just wanted to try it.  We talked about her first class. I enjoyed seeing that excitement as she talked about it.  And even though I don’t know her very well, I was super excited to see her step out and do something cool like this.  I wanted to encourage her as much as I possibly could.  I have multiple friends who are writers and I believe in their talent.  As a creative person I believe it’s my duty to encourage creative talent as much as possible.  As I chatted with my new work friend, I started to think about my blog. 

I remembered how the blog thing started.  Someone else was encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone and wanted me to bring my fashion thoughts, my storytelling ability and my life story to a larger audience.   After thinking about it forever I did it. And people liked it.  And it enriched my life.  It helped me document my journey with weight gain, weight loss, my love of karaoke, shopping, fashion, and eventually my pursuit of a music career.  When I started it, I thought it was this silly thing I was going to do.  But in the end people actually cared. They wanted to know what was going to happen in the next chapter of my crazy life.  It turned out to be much more than I expected.

Six years ago, one day in April my life turned upside down.  I was in a dark place physically and mentally and I pulled the plug on the blog.  I felt like I no longer had anything to say that would be of any interest to anyone, including myself.  I shut down completely.  It took me almost 8 months for me to get my life back together.  Once I got back to “normal” I still didn’t heart to start the blog again.

Then two years ago I decided to start the blog again. But it was a different blog.  The blog still had some of the aspects of the old blog, like my attire for the day, and the outfit justification.  But the subject matter changed.  It was a darker blog. It covered my battle with depression, weight gain, low self-esteem and my dread of turning 40.  There were lighter moments in the blog when I talked about the love of my life, my husband Jeff and the goofiness of our lives together.  I still talked about the pursuit of a singing career.  There was mention of audition failures and I didn’t have a steady gig. As I reread the blog posts, they felt too negative.  It was too real in some cases.  I don’t believe in spreading negativity. And I felt like it was becoming a vehicle that was spreading negativity.  I decided that I should shut it down.  In the last week of my thirties I opted to end the blog with a positive blog and how I had finally came into the acceptance stage of turning 40. I ended my 30’s and my blog.

There have been significant changes in my life since the last blog ended. I’m working at a different company. I have a steady singing gig which is completely out of my comfort zone in the world of burlesque.  I have found a love of vintage inspired clothing and have incorporated that into my personal style.  I’ve even been published as pinup model.  I still have some of the same struggles I had before, but there are all these positive new things in my life.  And when I was telling my new friend about the old blog, she said that it was fantastic and questioned why I stopped. She quickly said that I have such an interesting life and it’s a shame that I’m not sharing it with the world.  She said she’d totally be interested in hearing about the daily life of a person who works as a computer geek during the day but sings for a burlesque company in her spare time.  She also said that if she would be interested she thought others would be too. She even suggested we could write one together, me about pursuing music, her about pursuing comedy writing.  It wasn’t a bad idea.  I’m still toying with it.

So this is my attempt to dip my toe in the water of writing again.  I’m still afraid of what kind of scrutiny I could be opening myself up to.  I’m concerned that people might take shots at me.  People have always had very strong opinions, and sometimes people like to share their opinions of my life in a not so constructive way.  I have enough stress in my life, and I don’t want or need that kind of criticism. But that’s what happens when you open yourself up….on the Internet.  We’ll see how this goes. If it’s awful, I’ll stop. If it turns out to be awesome, I’ll continue.

Welcome to 40, The Water Is Just Right

Today’s Fashion Attire:  Black cotton dress with stud detail around the neck and the waist (White House Black Market $50) black leather heels (Rockport Outlet $29) silver hoop earrings (H&M  $2.90)

Outfit Justification:  This is my final week of my 30’s, I’ve opted to wear as many of my flattering black dresses as I can fit into this week.  I’m going into my fabulous 40’s like a true fashionista, rocking an LBD (Little Black Dress).

Welcome to 40, The Water Is Just Right:

After a year about me moaning and complaining, this week has finally come the end of the third decade of my life.  I have gone through all the stages of grieving with turning 40….and I’ve finally come to the acceptance stage.  In my final week, I’m calm and content about it.  

I’m going into this new decade armed with a bunch of good things.  First, there’s my healthy and stable romantic relationship, second, a few really good friends who have really stood by me, third, skills that set me apart from other people that will only grow to improve in my 40’s, finally self knowledge and confidence that can only come with maturity.   Will all of these things working in my favor, I don’t have to focus on the things that I don’t have because it doesn’t matter. The beauty is that I’m still alive and can still continue the pursuit of those things.

40 represents a new era of things to come. I believe my future is bright.  And I get to start this decade off with one helluva party.  I’m really looking forward to spending a wonderful evening with my loved ones and celebrating me, the way I love to celebrate: by wearing a fabulous outfit, singing my heart out and enjoying music.  I also look forward to being carded and getting the response “You’re 40, you look like you’re in your 20’s”.

Farewell 30’s, it’s been real and interesting.  My blue streaks and I are ready to enter all the fabulousness of 40.  And it will be done with true style!